


Awoo

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Ficlet, Knotting, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 01:58:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4329459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Knots can be fun, until your uncle walks in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Awoo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [delank_89](https://archiveofourown.org/users/delank_89/gifts).



> A/N: Fill for anon’s “Fili and Kili have a secret relationship. Alpha Kili fucks omega Fili and knotts him. The knotting can last for several hours, even a whole day so they are just sitting there enjoying their closeness and pleasure. They get caught by Thorin and desperately try to separate from each other but it's just not possible and they have to stay there and listen to Thorin lecturing them and yelling at them while still very much stuck together.” prompt on [the Hobbit Kink Meme](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/10731.html?thread=21984491#t21984491).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Dawn comes and Fíli feels Kíli nuzzle into his neck, inhale his thick scent and lick across his skin, pressing teeth into his throat. Fíli rolls around to give him more room, lets Kíli run his hot mouth down Fíli’s chest, over his stomach and nip at his thighs, come back up again to roll him back over, tell him _you’re beautiful_ , and slip into his waiting hole. Fíli’s wet, of course, stretched and dilating open—ready for his beloved alpha. They’re already bonded, already easy. Their bodies long for one another on the very few occasions when they aren’t touching, and all Kíli has to do is kiss Fíli’s cheek, and Fíli’s ass winks open, juices bubbling up to take his brother’s cock. 

Kíli fills him in languid, lazy thrusts, grinding deep inside him every time. Kíli digs him into the mattress and scatters kisses over his shoulders, brushes his golden hair away, moans, “I love you so much.” Fíli moans back, incoherent, fingers twisting in the white sheets. It feels _so good, always does_. Kíli _belongs_ inside him. He gasps, his face turned against their grand bed—Fíli’s bed—a stone, four-poster structure made for the heir of Erebor, his brother always slipping in at his side. 

He whines, “I love you, too,” when he can. They say it so much that the words become sloshed together, one single-syllable sentiment that Fíli already knows, but always likes to hear. He can _feel_ Kíli’s love. He can smell it in Kíli’s raging pheromones, sweeping in to devour his own: a feral alpha claiming their willing prize. Even when they’re sleepy and slumped and under soft sheets like this, there’s still a _passion_ to Kíli’s hips. The slapping sound of skin-on-skin, squelching with Fíli’s juices in between, is his favourite lullaby. He lets his eyes close, drinking all its joy, taking thrust after thrust until Kíli wraps an arm around him and fists his cock. 

Kíli pumps him in time with it, and Fíli whimpers. It’ll make him come too soon, but Kíli does it anyway, and Fíli fights to last. The hours tick away. Kíli milks him twice before following, slamming home hard enough to make Fíli twitch to life again, ready for a third. Kíli hits that special spot every time. He pumps Fíli full of seed, thick and hot, and Fíli’s mouth waters at the thought of it—he wants to taste it, to lick it up, to lap his lover’s cock clean—but Kíli’s knot is growing and it’s all trapped inside. The rivers that trickle out around Fíli’s thighs are small, the bulk held in his ass. It feels like his stomach’s swelled from the sheer amount of it. He’s made fat with Kíli’s seed, and then Kíli collapses atop him, heavy and hot and sweaty, holding him tight around the middle. 

It’s a yummy sort of state. They’re panting hard, both of them, and excited but tired. The light coming through the cutout windows marks it somewhere around lunchtime, bright, with the calls of ravens outside. They lie still, anyway. There’s nothing on the schedule today. Fíli just luxuriates in their hard-earned bed and the weight of his darling Kíli atop him, still stretching his hole wide. Kíli’s knot is large and powerful, just like the rest of his cock. It never hurts Fíli, never comes loose early. Sometimes, he thinks he was built to take it. That’s why they were born together: to find each other as soon as they could. Fíli couldn’t imagine being knotted by anyone else.

They lie like that for a long, long time, Fíli a little hard from being _full of Kíli_ but too spent to do anything about it. Kíli stays on top of him, making him sweat more in the middle of his back. He looks over his shoulder when he can, and they kiss, sometimes on the mouth, sometimes Fíli sighing contentedly and Kíli kissing the rest of him. Kíli runs stout fingers through his hair, and Fíli spreads his legs wider to wrap his feet back around Kíli’s legs. Kíli murmurs things like, “so _pretty_ ,” “need you with me,” and “ _mine_ ,” into Fíli’s shoulder, and Fíli croons and mewls and generally enjoys being petted and _loved_. Kíli’s very good to him.

But Kíli can knot for hours: a strong alpha in the line of Durin. Fíli can take it, likes taking it. He takes it now, and they have one other small round, where Kíli adds just that much more seed to Fíli’s body and then plugs it in, and Fíli makes the sticky puddle he’s lying in even bigger. They adjust a few times but don’t leave the bed. There’s a bowl of water they keep on the nightstand for times like this, just within Kíli’s reach.

It’s much later when they hear boots in the other room, and at first, Fíli’s so dizzy that he thinks it’s part of his dream, but Kíli tries to sit up suddenly. It makes Fíli yelp, the knot keeping their bottoms glued together, and by then it’s too late. Their bedroom door swings open, their uncle stalking in. He takes one look at them and blinks. His eyes go bigger than Fíli’s ever seen them. Fíli and Kíli both try to separate, but they can’t, and when Kíli moves, it just brushes his big cock along Fíli’s prostate, and he cries out in pleasure, ashamed right after, flushed deep pink. Another stab of Kíli’s cock undoes him, and he drops back to the mattress again, flat on his stomach. He can barely meet Thorin’s eyes. Hurriedly, Thorin shuts the door. 

They know they’re in trouble. Fíli can feel Kíli tense against him, trying to sit up on his hands and knees but his body still arched to keep his crotch at Fíli’s ass. Thorin marches over, and as soon as he hits the end of the bed, he grabs one of the pushed-aside blankets and tosses it over them; Kíli lets it slide down his back, hiding the place where they’re connected. They can’t do any better. Thorin must know that, or they’d never stay like this in front of him. 

Kíli mumbles first, sheepish and sorry, “We can explain—”

But Thorin’s no fool, and he snaps, “I need no explanation. This is obvious enough.” He pauses to snort, then rolls on bitterly, “No wonder my heirs have shown no interest in all their many suitors.”

Fíli opens his mouth, wanting to say something, anything, to defend Kíli, to defend _them_. But there’s really nothing _to_ say, and the burning heat in Thorin’s eyes just makes him wilt. Kíli got all his flame from Thorin, and Thorin’s still the most powerful alpha Fíli knows. If he could, he might slink away to let them fight it out, but Kíli’s knot robs him of that option. Thorin looks between them, but mostly at Kíli, probably for this reason, but that just makes Fíli feel even worse; he knows how upset Kíli must be. When the silence goes on too long, Fíli murmurs, “I’m sorry.”

Thorin growls. He sounds like a wolf, or a warg, and Fíli shuts his mouth instantly. “What do you think you’re _doing_? Or did you give this any thought? You’re _princes_! You’re the heirs to the greatest city in Middle Earth, and you’ve just made furthering your line impossibly harder! Neither of you are carriers—do you have any idea how difficult it’ll be for you to take mates on the side now that you’ve taken your opposites? You _know_ you’re an alpha and an omega: you _know_ what it means when you bond! Do you realize the pain you’ll be subjecting yourselves, and each other, to?”

Fíli sniffs. He knows, of course, though he always tries not to think about it, because it’s already too late—they’ve been together far too long, and the first night it happened, they really _weren’t_ thinking. But now Kíli is _Fíli’s mate_ , he knows that, and creating an heir with someone else will hurt worse than Thorin’s disapproval ever could. It still stings to be reminded. He can feel Kíli moping against him, except when Kíli shifts, it makes his knot move inside Fíli, his cock tapping that spot again, and Fíli clamps his eyes closed, gritting his teeth— _not now_ —he doesn’t dare get hard in front of Thorin—what he did have had already wilted. But Kíli’s weight shifts, his shaft brushes Fíli’s prostate, and Fíli cries out, lewd and filthy, desperation in his voice. When he dares to peek open his eyes, Thorin’s scowling at him. 

“I’ll do it,” Kíli says, drawing Thorin’s gaze back. “I’ll do our duty. I’ll fill another omega, one that can—”

Thorin cuts him off, hissing, “Good luck trying to get hard for an omega that isn’t yours. Do you expect Fíli to fare any better, taking another omega when he’s already had an alpha? You’ve taken that ability from him!” Fíli can feel Kíli deflate, but that only makes it worse—when he lowers, his cock grinds in, and Fíli squirms beneath him, seeking a spot that won’t drive him mad, but there isn’t one. Every little movement sloshes Kíli’s seed around him, and he knows it’s useless in his body, but he _loves_ it, loves being stuffed full of _Kíli_. Even as Thorin snaps, “You’ve ruined all your dynamics!” Fíli’s growing hard.

He ruts himself against the mattress, can’t help it, still burning with shame. Thorin takes a step back, a few forward, then turns, and he begins to pace while he scolds them, furiously ranting off, “You reckless fools! You couldn’t have waited until _after_ your line was secured? Why must you always be so impatient? You could’ve chosen suitors this morning, filled them up by now, and been with each other tonight, but instead you’ve wasted your day away doing nothing but lazing in bed with your cocks inside each other, like we don’t have an entire kingdom to rebuild! Ever pair of hands counts!”

They could never have chosen anyone this morning. Thorin clearly has no idea how long this has been going on, but neither of them correct him. Kíli is mostly still, fidgeting only here and there, and Fíli keeps trying not to writhe but can’t help himself. Kíli just feels so _wonderful._ He almost wants to buck up and grab Kíli’s attention, tempt Kíli to grind into him; he wants _more_ , he wants _Kíli_. While Thorin paces back and forth muttering curses, Kíli’s hand lands between Fíli’s shoulder blades. It pets him, soothes him, but runs down his spine and slides along his hip, and Fíli’s breaking; he lifts his ass against Kíli, letting the knot jostle inside himself—he can’t take it. Kíli strokes his skin and makes soft sounds too low for Thorin to hear, always taking care of him, and Fíli can’t help himself, he can’t stop it, he tries, but he fails—he comes again, crying out in utter pleasure. His cock spurts between his stomach and the sheets. Thorin whirls around, glaring all the harder, but Fíli’s still awash with bliss and can’t seem to quite come down. 

He collapses against the bed, breathing hard, and Kíli protectively pets him. Kíli insists, “We’ll find someone, Thorin. Someone who will have both of us, and we’ll take them together. We won’t fail your line, I promise.” 

Thorin doesn’t look at all convinced. Fíli’s too dizzy to see him properly. But Fíli thinks he can see a sudden flicker of thought pass over Thorin’s face, and then Thorin scratches his beard, muttering, “I suppose there are... others. Ones without Dwarven pheromones, that might be able to help. Bilbo’s smell was very different...”

“Send an eagle for a hobbit that can bear children,” Kíli says, latching onto it. Fíli’s impressed with his brother’s ability to reason it out; he’d only given in. Although, of course, he had the disadvantage of being stuffed full of cock. “Anyone that wants a pair of dwarves. We’ll do it.”

“You do everything out of order,” Thorin snorts, but his expression’s softened, and it no longer looks like he wants to split their heads open. “...You’re very fortunate that I’d been meaning to write a letter to Bilbo anyway. I’ll see what can be done.” He hardens again to add, “In the meantime, I’ll expect you down for dinner tonight so you can explain this shameful behaviour to your mother. I won’t have my princes sneaking about in the shadows, pretending to be available to hopefuls when they’re as tied together as ever. You’d best be able to separate by then.”

Fíli nods, and Kíli must do the same. Telling their mother won’t be pleasant, but at least they won’t have to hide their affection in public anymore. Thorin gives them one last scolding look, then sweeps from the room.

As soon as the door shuts behind Thorin, Kíli collapses on top of Fíli again. He grinds his cock in deep, kisses Fíli’s shoulder, and murmurs huskily, “I thought he’d never leave.”

Then Kíli’s nipping at Fíli’s ear, humping his ass, caressing his sides, and Fíli’s squirming and wondering dazedly if he can just sit in Kíli’s lap at dinner.


End file.
